The Hand That Helps –

 “You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.” ― John Bunyan
magictransistor

Repeating the refrain of old warriors, a certain one of them, having found himself at destinies juncture, has lent not just a hand, but a life to aid one who had fallen, namely me. To this end, that I might be found whole again, a work was instituted that in spite of my efforts (for I often sabotage my own salvation) continues to this day. He is called in the popular tongue an Indian, more specifically, a Native American, and was a large man with long black hair, who inspired respect, if from nothing more than from his size, reached down to assist me by holding back the powers of the dark world of addiction and the apex predators who prowl its labyrinthine corridors. With his family by his side he took me in, giving me refuge and a place of recovery without which I’d probably be dead or worse (there are things worse than dying).

During the time of his heaven sent provision an alternative lifestyle began to show itself. Don’t take alternative to be a freaky derivative of normality, but it was an alternative compared to my insanity. His family was simply just that, a family. This greatly put me in awe, for this thing called family was an institution of which I’ve been deprived of and seeing his daily dance of life with his wife and child put me at ease and challenged me to walk a different path. This path included a particular music with which I began to fall in love with as the music for my own dance with normality.

Understand that people who are impaired, whether physically or mentally, can dance but not like an unimpaired person would. My twirls and spirals, off beat and tragically humorous created a unique rhythm that would like the Native American drums, inspire me to reach beyond myself, beyond what I knew, and teach me things that though unseen were amazingly tangible. The reason I write is to honor him and the amazing work that his random and sometimes not so random acts of kindness began in me many years ago. So my friend, where ever you are, I can still see you who with unwavering determination gave me hope and with your Bruce Lee One Inch Punch gave me a bruise and reason to not wound this opportunity to grow.

*

First Published in Opinions Of Eye

Also published in Life as a Human

Raw and Uncensored –

Intoxicated again
off the wagon given
what’s left isn’t
recognizable
what’s left
Is a shadow of
you loving me
and several hours of porn
convinced me your worthy
or not
but despite how others use you…
I need you.
First Published in Opinions Of Eye

Ballad of the Slinger –

“There was no ‘I’ in team, but there was meat in team. And we were all dead meat.”
Jennifer Lane,
Blocked
 
“and after much thought he said to me…I know your game…you don’t have any game and that’s your game…”  –  da man wit dreads
  
 
You hit me hard and I took my licks
You gave me hard and expected bricks
You studied me and gave me ninety-nine
your thinking that I’d lose my mind
Telling me I put you up the ladder
with big men you’re countin’ cheddar
You played the game with our soul
thought my women would bring me low
But I saw what you’re gonna do
I was ahead of your game yeah ahead of you
You look and fretted while the money flowed
at the very end it wasn’t you I owed
With halting eyes you knew it was done
playing the game without game you knew I won
*
First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

Glory Undone – A woman succumbs to vice –

“She’s not happy about the life she is living but to jump through the hoop would mean to succumb to death.” – Kit Williams
*
3d1f6-addiction1
I saw her give up and fall to addictions vice:
 
Your legs splayed in graphic way
Wanting to leave this world, come and play
Scoring your hits underneath dark worlds
Flying, inhibition burned in pink pearl
Reaching to touch your body magnificent
I’m held at bay by your habit’s descent
Changed from a fondled object of desire
Picking at your curves that soft skin on fire
Tears they are my lover as you fade from sight
Pleasure was ours until you hid in your night”
– Nightfall, D.M.W. Sager
*
Glory is undone as the softness turns to a melted waste of surrender
 
Gone is the shine from the jewel of your womanhood
 
Shame clothes a golden soul tarnished by wantonness
 
Laying down your fight as your thoughts of peace fall with fear
 
What’s left now that you gave your glory to another?
 
Stained garments of unusual color adorn your nakedness
 
Dive into the murky river as it flows away
 
Perhaps your deeds will not settle on your life
*
Pressing back the past, recover your glory undone.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

 02132012